Condemned to Repeat It
by ChiaveDiSol
Summary: Idgie and Ruth adopt a daughter whose life strangely parallels their own. Horrible summary, I know. Title is based on a quote by George Santayana...rating will be adjusted as needed. Please R&R! *discontinued until further notice*
1. Pretty Eyes

Idgie watched as her thirteen-year-old daughter vanished into the woods where she herself had spent so much time at the same age, and for the same reason: the girl was heartbroken. Less than ten minutes before, Grady Kilgore had come into the café to inform Idgie and Ruth that their daughter's best friend, a boy named Patrick McGuire, had died that afternoon in an accident on the railroad tracks. Little Bit had come in as Grady was leaving and asked him what had happened on the tracks because her brother had told her that someone died. Grady looked at her helplessly then looked to Ruth and Idgie; as they started towards her, understanding dawned in Little Bit's eyes and she ducked back through the door and took off running.

"Honey…Idgie, come back," Ruth called, starting to follow her, but Idgie put a hand on her arm.

"Let her go, Ruth. You cain't help her right now. The best thing you can do is be here for her when she comes back to us."

Ruth knew she was right, but it felt wrong to stand here and watch her daughter's receding figure be swallowed by trees. "When do you think she'll be back?" she asked the woman next to her.

Idgie shook her head, "When her heart heals up a little, I guess. I don't know how long it'll take her. She just lost half of herself, Ruth…she's gonna hurt for a long time over that boy." To herself, Idgie wondered if this were somehow her fault. She had thought Ruth was joking when she first suggested naming the girl Little Idgie, but Ruth had been serious and the name had stuck; since then, she'd be damned if that girl's life hadn't been almost a duplication of her own, down to this tragedy and Little Bit's taking off. Sure, she had been an influence on Little Bit (the girl wore more of Stump's hand-me-downs than anything else, and spent more time in the woods than in school)…but had she condemned her to repeat Idgie's own past by sharing her name? She shook her head again and followed Ruth back inside, waving at Grady as she did.

Later that night, Idgie came home to find Ruth standing at their window, staring towards the dam where she knew her daughter most likely was. She walked over and wrapped her arms around Ruth, murmuring as she did so, "Leave her be, Ruth. She'll come home when she's ready."

"Oh, Idgie…" Ruth turned and buried her face in Idgie's shoulder. "I just keep thinking of the day God brought her to us, and hoping we don't lose her now."

Idgie hugged her more tightly as her mind, too, played back the day Little Bit had joined their family.

_ Idgie stood on the front steps of the house she and Ruth had bought, drinking in the cool morning air. She knew that within a few hours, it would be hot enough to fry eggs on the tin roof of the house behind her. Humming to herself, she stepped down and made her way to the café to begin getting ready for a new day._

_ Buddy, Jr. was spending the weekend in Birmingham with the Hadleys, and things at home just weren't the same without him. It was nice, though, Idgie reflected, to spend some time just her and Ruth, without having to worry about where their five-year-old son was or if he was going to turn up at an inopportune moment. They'd been out late last night, strolling through the fields and woods where they had spent their first summer together, and Idgie had volunteered to open the café herself this morning so Ruth could sleep in. _

_ Gradually, her hum turned to a whistle as she walked; the simple tune was an old hillbilly song about lost love, one that always made her think of Ruth. Nearing the café, she noticed that sometime during the night, a bundle of fabric had been blown onto the porch. She made her way up the steps and stooped to grab the bundle before going in._

_ Putting her hands on the fabric, Idgie realized that there was something wrapped in it, and crouched down to see what it could possibly be; her whistle faded as she pulled the outermost layer down to reveal the face of a sleeping baby. Frowning, she picked up the baby and sat down on the bench outside the door. Cradling the infant, Idgie carefully searched the rest of the blankets for a note or letter, anything that would tell her who's baby this was and why it was on the porch of The Whistlestop Café. There was nothing._

_ Nonplussed, Idgie sat on the bench a while, staring at the child sleeping in her arms; she couldn't think of anyone in Whistlestop to whom the baby could belong, nor could she imagine anyone choosing to leave a baby here instead of at one of the churches. After a few moments she decided that she would simply do what she always did when life surprised her: tell Ruth. She was starting down the steps when her new friend began to stir, opening eyes precisely the same shade of blue as Idgie's own. Looking at that angelic face, Idgie fell in love. She began to smile and talk nonsense as she wondered how, exactly, she was going to explain to Ruth why she was home and carrying a baby._

_ Ruth, of course, was awake; 'sleep in' just wasn't part of her vocabulary. She looked up, startled, as Idgie came in. "Idgie Threadgoode," she exclaimed, "I thought you were going to open the café this morning."_

_ Idgie looked a little indignant. "I said I was, didn't I? I just got a little sidetracked when I got there."_

_ "What do you mean, sidetracked? And what are you carrying?"_

_ "Well, Ruth honey, that's what I'm talking about. I found a mysterious package left on the porch and so I decided to bring it home to show you."_

_ Ruth looked suspicious. "It couldn't keep until I came to the café?"_

_ "See for yourself," was Idgie's response, holding out the now-squirming baby for Ruth, who instinctively opened her arms._

_ "Oh, Idgie…is it a boy or a girl?" Ruth, like Idgie, immediately fell in love._

_ "A girl, I checked," replied Idgie, "and in the sunlight, her hair is exactly the same color as yours."_

_ "Well, her eyes match yours, Idgie. And so does her face. If she had blonde hair I'd say it was you all over again." Ruth looked up at Idgie. "What are you planning on doing with her?"_

_ "Well…" Idgie hesitated. She knew they didn't really need another kid, but something about the little girl tugged at her heartstrings. Children were never a part of her adolescent daydreams about the life she would share with Ruth…but now that they had one, and a chance for another, she found herself desperately wanting this addition to their little family. And seeing Ruth sitting there, cuddling this baby and talking nonsense to her, just made her want it even more. As usual, Ruth looked like she already knew what was going through Idgie's mind. "I know we don't really NEED another kid..." her voice trailed off. _

_ Ruth smiled, "I want her, too, Idgie."_

_ And that was that. Buddy, Jr. came home the next day to find himself in possession of a new baby sister, by the name of Little Idgie. Momma and Poppa Threadgoode were delighted to have yet another grandchild, and the town accepted the addition to the Threadgoode/Jamison household with joy. _

Sighing, Idgie turned and led Ruth to bed; there was nothing they could do right now, so they might as well at least try to get some sleep.

Four years later, Little Bit had at least partly rejoined the world. She wasn't the same girl she had been before, but she helped out in the café, and she spent time with her family, and she did spend most nights in the Threadgoode house (Ruth and Idgie had moved in after Momma and Poppa Threadgoode died). She still didn't spend much time in school, but she at least didn't live in the woods any longer, much to Ruth's relief.

Idgie and Ruth recognized the girl's somewhat eccentric behavior as much the same as the way Idgie had acted at seventeen, grieving for her brother Buddy and spending all her time down at the river club, but that didn't make them worry any less. They both knew that the only thing that had saved Idgie from herself was Ruth; unless someone could get through to Little Bit, she would likely spend the rest of her life brokenhearted.

Remembering how Momma Threadgoode had dealt with Idgie's broken heart, Ruth had invited her cousin's daughter, Brianna, to spend the summer with them in Whistlestop. Hopefully, the girl would be a friend to Little Bit and get her to stop living in the past. At the very least, she'd be a welcome addition to the rest of the family.

So it was with mingled excitement and anxiety that Ruth, Idgie, and Stump met Brianna at the train station one afternoon in late April. Little Bit was nowhere to be found, of course; she would turn up when she was ready, and not a moment before.

Brianna Lucas was one of the prettiest girls Whistlestop ever did have the pleasure of seeing; her blonde hair fell in waves to her shoulders, and her green eyes seemed to dance when she laughed, which was often. She was tall and slender, nearly Ruth's height, but with a fuller face and creamy skin sprayed with freckles; her voice was a lilting, refined drawl and her laugh infectious. She fit in easily with their little family, cracking jokes with Idgie, teasing Stump, and exclaiming to Ruth how much she already loved Whistlestop; it was so very different from Valdosta, where she'd grown up.

She had a way with words, almost like Idgie; but where Idgie used her gift to tell tall tales and get out of trouble, Brianna used hers to write the most beautiful poetry. It wasn't unusual to find her staring dreamily at random objects, pencil in hand, writing down whatever thoughts came into her mind, and they all teased her about it good naturedly.

After supper that night, eaten at the café with Idgie and Ruth eating in shifts while the other tended to customers, Stump left to spend time with his girl, Peggy Hadley, and Ruth and Idgie walked Brianna to the Threadgoode house. Neither of them was particularly surprised to see Little Bit waiting on the porch railing, head leaned back, eyes closed. She kept her eyes closed until both her parents had passed her, then stole a quick glance at the newcomer; she was not expecting the girl to be looking back. Ruth and Idgie had stopped inside the screen door to watch, knowing their daughter well enough to know that she would peek at Brianna after they had passed. As such, they were in perfect position to watch as Brianna stood inspecting their daughter, and Little Bit opened her eyes, thinking herself unwatched.

Little Bit found herself looking into a pair of green eyes the likes of which she'd never seen before; her breath caught in her throat and her heart jumped up to join it in a split second. Idgie and Ruth were also, from the vantage point of the screen door, able to see Little Bit promptly fall off the railing into the flower bed.

"Idgie Threadgoode," called Ruth before she could help herself, "don't you squash my daisies. Your mother planted them for me." The mother in question had collapsed into giggles in the entryway.

Little Bit stood up, glaring in the direction of the laughter she could hear emanating from the door and dusted herself off. "I didn't hurt them, Momma," she called back to Ruth, then began walking across the yard.

"Wait," called Brianna, "You must be Little Idgie; I didn't mean to startle you."

Little Idgie turned. "You didn't 'startle' anybody; I just decided it was time for me to go." She had long since perfected her namesake's drawl, and the words came out in a blend of sarcasm and sincerity that made Idgie hoot with laughter and Ruth shake her head in dismay and step out onto the porch.

"Idgie Threadgoode, where are you going? You know I don't want you down at that river club."

Little Idgie waved a hand over her shoulder in acknowledgment and kept walking.

Brianna looked from Ruth to Idgie and asked "What did I do?" looking so confused that she set Idgie off on another laughing attack; Ruth sat the girl down on the porch swing and attempted to explain her daughter, joined by Idgie when she regained her breath.

Little Bit kicked at stones in her path. How could she have made such a fool of herself? And she knew what her mommas were up to, knew they had invited Brianna to stay the summer in hopes that she would get Little Idgie to act more like a civilized human being; she had been quite prepared to cheerfully loathe the girl and dedicate her time to making Brianna miserable. But those pretty green eyes, staring so intently into her own, had been so unexpected; Idgie kicked another rock and muttered to herself, "Pretty eyes, sure. Who ever fell off a porch for a pair of pretty eyes?" She stopped, remembering the face that framed those eyes, and thought that maybe it was okay to fall off a porch railing for a face like that…then snorted and started walking again. Idgie was never going to let her live this down.

For her momma's sake, she did not, in fact, go to the river club; instead she went to the dam and sat on the edge, feet dangling, ears filled with the roaring of the water. She felt like swimming but the weather still wasn't quite warm enough, and she knew better than to come home dripping wet; her momma would skin her alive.

She did take off her shoes and wade a bit, wary of the water moccasins that sometimes had the same urge for a nighttime swim. After a while, she got tired of the cool water and skipping rocks, and started for home, equally wary of what she might find there.

The house was quiet when she walked up, and Stump's car was in the driveway. His room and the guest bedroom were dark, although a light was on in her parents room; for this reason, she climbed the rose trellis and then crawled in her window, rather then going inside and walking past their door. Once inside, Little Bit shed her shoes and trousers, then crawled into bed in her overlarge button-down shirt and slept the fitful sleep of those still stinging from Cupid's arrow.


	2. To Every Thing There is a Season

The next morning found Little Bit seated in Idgie's chinaberry tree, ostentatiously to read the mystery magazine she held. Leaving for the café, Idgie chuckled to herself to see her daughter watching for Brianna in the same way that she used to watch for Ruth; no one would've ever guessed that they weren't blood related, the way they acted so much alike.

Ruth was not as amused. "Idgie Threadgoode, I want you down out of that tree, d'you hear me?"

Little Bit feigned deafness, and extreme interest in her magazine.

"Idgie, I'm warning you," Ruth crossed her arms. That girl was every bit as impossible as her Bee Charmer had been at seventeen. "If you're not out of that tree when I come back outside, I'm going to have someone climb up there and get you down. I'm serious, Idgie." With that, she walked back into the house.

Little Bit snorted. Who would climb up here after her? But for whatever reason, it bothered one of her mommas that she was lounging so comfortably in the chinaberry tree, and she did hate to upset Ruth, so she climbed further up until she could get onto the roof. She obeyed the letter of the law (sometimes), if not always the spirit.

When Ruth came back out, Brianna in tow, and searched the chinaberry tree for her daughter, she was pleasantly surprised to find that the girl had actually listened…to a degree. Spotting Little Bit on the roof, she shook her head and waved, then continued with Brianna to the café.

At the café, Brianna tried to help, but no one would let her: Ruth told her to go enjoy herself; Idgie told her they had it under control, that they'd been doing this for years now; even Sipsey wouldn't let her lift a finger.

"You go on," said Sipsey. "Go on, get out of my kitchen."

Throwing up her hands in mock defeat, Brianna went out to the porch where a number of children were congregated: if she wasn't going to be able to help out in the café, she might as well start getting to know people.

Once outside, Brianna sat in one of the rocking chairs and watched the children that stood a little ways off. They looked to be around eight or nine years of age, and seemed to be immersed in a rather serious debate; seeing how they had quickly hushed up when she walked outside, then moved a little distance away, she assumed they were discussing her. After a few more moments of argument, one boy stepped towards her and waved shyly.

"Hello," she smiled.

He grinned in response, showing a gap where his front teeth should have been. "Are you Miss Ruth's cousin?" he asked.

"Why, yes; yes, I am. My name is Brianna. What's yours?"

He shuffled his feet and mumbled, "Jamie Cormack, ma'am."

Brianna hid a laugh at his nervousness, and the intent gazes of the other children. "That's a perfectly wonderful name. I bet you know all about Whistlestop, don't you Jamie?"

His eyes darted up, as though he suspected her of mocking him. Seeing sincerity in her face, however, he smiled again and nodded. "Yes ma'am, I guess I know as much as anyone."

"Well, I just came here yesterday, and I'm afraid I only know four and a half people…and not much else. So, do you think you'd be able to tell me what you know about Whistlestop so that I'm not quite so lost?"

Jamie giggled at this. "How can you know four and a half people?" he asked wonderingly.

"I know Miss Ruth and Miss Idgie, of course. And I know Stump. And now I know you. So, that makes four."

"But what about the half?" insisted Jamie; that was the part he was interested in.

"Well, I had an encounter with Little Idgie last night…but I wouldn't say I actually know her. So, in my mind, it counts as half-knowing. Does that make sense?"

Jamie made a face. "Aw, that's just Little Bit," he answered, somewhat disappointed. "Nobody more than half knows _her_."

"'To every thing there is a season…'" she murmured, as though to herself, then laughed and looked back at Jamie. "Well then, my good sir, where shall we start in my education?"

He looked a bit lost as to what, exactly, she was expecting. "Uhm…"

"How about you introduce all your friends, for a start?" She suggested, and he smiled in relief.

"Sure! There's Johnny Singer, and Susan Eldritch, and Mary Ellen Threadgoode, and Joe Hadley, and Jacob Weems, and Lilly Marie Couch…"

As he reeled off their names, the other children stepped forward and held out their hands. Gravely, she shook each one. After the entire group had been introduced, they began asking questions in the way that children have: one right after another, arguing over whose would be answered first.

Laughing, she held up her hands. "Wait, wait, wait: I can only answer one question at a time. I'll tell you what, for every question I answer, you all have to tell me something about Whistlestop; does that sound fair?"

They eagerly agreed and settled onto the seats around her to begin asking questions.

Half an hour later, Ruth paused in serving Grady his traditional slice of pie and looked out the window to the porch. Through the screen door, she could hear Brianna's lilting voice rising and falling in a pattern that she recognized from listening to Idgie for so long: the girl was telling stories to the group of children that were crowded around her, hanging on her every word. Ruth smiled; it looked like Brianna was going to give Idgie a run for her money when it came to charming people.

Around mid-afternoon, Brianna was still surrounded by children. More and more had joined the original small group, until they were in danger of overcrowding the small porch. Noticing Idgie standing in the doorway, she paused dramatically in the midst of telling about a brave knight fighting a fierce dragon to rescue a beautiful princess.

"Sir Tobias watched helplessly as his sword went flying through the air, landing on the very edge of the nearby cliff. A look of triumph in its eyes, the dragon prepared to spring…"

The children (some of whom were not actually children at all, but teenagers) leaned forward, breathless with anticipation, but they were disappointed.

Taking her cue, Idgie stepped forward. "And the rest will have to wait for another day. Right now, your parents are probably wondering where you all are; it's dinner time."

Groaning, the group began to disperse, telling Brianna what a wonderful story that was and discussing it amongst themselves.

"They're going to be acting that out for months, you know; and begging you to tell them more every time they see you." Idgie remarked.

"Oh, I don't mind at all," replied Brianna. "Jamie, aren't you going home for dinner?" She asked, catching sight of him still standing on the porch.

Seeing the look of shame on his face, Idgie intervened. "Jamie's eating dinner here this afternoon." Grinning at the look of surprise on his face, she held open the door for him and Brianna to go inside, casting a glance back at where her daughter was sitting, hidden in the shade of the porch.

The café was empty except for Ruth and Smokey Lonesome, who waved as he stepped out; even Sipsey had gone home for the afternoon. Overhead fans stirred the air around as Ruth finished clearing a final table and then disappeared into the kitchen.

Idgie told the other two to pick a spot to sit, then went to help Ruth. "I told Jamie Cormack he could eat dinner here today," she said offhandedly as she gathered glasses and silverware for them to use.

"I'm glad," replied Ruth. "Probably the first decent meal he's had in a while."

"Brianna doesn't know," Idgie stated, trusting that Ruth would know what she meant. Ruth usually did, and this was no exception.

"Well, she'll find out sooner or later, I guess. Should we tell her, or let him?"

Idgie snorted. "He won't. He about choked when she asked if he was going home like the rest. I just don't want her to hear it from some jumped up neighbor who's stirring up trouble."

Ruth nodded in agreement. "I guess you can tell her tonight, then."

"Why me?" asked Idgie in mock indignation. "You're better at this sort of thing than I am."

"Mm, maybe," agreed Ruth. "But you're the one who's lived here her whole life. It's different coming from you. And besides," she added, kissing the tip of Idgie's nose, "you're my Bee Charmer, remember? You can talk anyone into anything and make them think it was their own idea."

"What's that got to do with anything?" asked Idgie, stacking plates.

"You'll be able to keep her from going and killing that bastard Matthew Cormack."

Idgie nodded. "Well, there is that. Although Whistlestop would be better off without him."

"Yes…but Brianna didn't come here to spend the summer in jail, remember?"

"No, she's here to civilize Little Bit. I know." Idgie fidgeted with a napkin for a moment, then added, "She was listening to Brianna's story, you know."

"And that surprises you?" Ruth asked, flipping the green tomatoes she was frying.

"Nooo…just reminded me of watching you teach Sunday School, is all." She adjusted the folds of the paper flower she had made out of the napkin she held, then presented it to Ruth, who tucked it behind her ear.

She leaned over and kissed Idgie's cheek. "Give it time. Brianna's a sweet girl, and she wants to be friends; Little Bit will see that. This will work."

Idgie turned her head and captured Ruth's lips with her own for a moment, then pulled back and said softly "It has to work, Ruth. There's nothing else that will."


	3. Football and Showing Off

After dinner, Ruth, Idgie, and Brianna walked back to the Threadgoode house as a delighted Jamie, still thanking them profusely, skipped off to find his friends. Ruth had taken him aside before they left the café and let him know that he was welcome to eat dinner, and breakfast and supper as well, with them whenever he liked; between that and Brianna's promise to continue her story tomorrow, he was so lighthearted that he may as well have been floating.

Back at the house, none of them were surprised to find Little Bit back in the chinaberry tree; sighing, Ruth went inside. Idgie and Brianna sat on the porch swing.

"So, just the four of you live in this big old house?" Brianna asked curiously. Her and her father and mother had lived in a large house in Valdosta, always teeming with family and friends, but after her mother died, she and her father had moved in with his sister and her husband. Brianna's Aunt Susan and Uncle Jack were a strict sort of people who lived in a small house and frowned on social gatherings that weren't church-related. Their two children had been Brianna's storytelling audience until her Uncle Jack told her that she was filling their heads with nonsense and that she was not to tell any more stories to them; she had been hoping that her Cousin Ruth's house would be full of people, as she missed the bustle of her younger days.

As though reading her mind, Idgie answered, "Well, at the moment it's just us. I guess it's pretty different than what you grew up with, but Ninny and Albert will be along shortly, and Cleo later, and Leona and John and their children; there's five of them, and every one's a little terror. And, let's see, Julian and Opal will come along, and Essie Rue and her husband and little boy. Stump's girl, Peggy, and a few of his friends: the Kilgore twins, Reverend Scroggins' boy, Peggy's brother. Every Saturday night and Sunday afternoon, we get a big group together just for the heck of it." Mindful that Brianna was a young lady, she tried to keep her language sort of clean.

Brianna laughed. "Oh Idgie, you just made me the happiest girl in Whistlestop. I was hoping there would be people everywhere."

"Well, you'll get your wish tonight, then," Idgie chuckled.

They talked about inconsequential things, ignoring the occasional rustling from the chinaberry tree. After a while, a woman and a boy came strolling up the drive and went inside, waving cheerfully at the two women seated on the swing and at the chinaberry tree.

"That's Ninny and Albert," said Idgie, in answer to Brianna's questioning look. "He's Stump's age, but when he was born, something went wrong, so his mind's still about four years old."

Brianna frowned. "How awful."

Idgie nodded in agreement. "Yea, Ninny and Cleo were heartbroken, but they love him as much as any parents ever loved a child. And he seems perfectly happy, so there's no need to be upset for him; his life is much simpler than the rest of ours."

A little while later, Stump came outside carrying a football, and sat on the railing by them to await the arrival of his friends. The three of them chatted amiably until four boys came up the drive, laughing and joking. They stopped in front of the porch, each of them tipping an imaginary hat to Brianna, who blushed. Hopping off the railing, Stump grinned and introduced his friends, then began discussing who was going to be on whose team for their Saturday afternoon football game.

As they debated amongst themselves who would be on the two-man team, and who would be on the three-man, Stump had an idea.

"Hey Little Bit," he called up to his sister. "You wanna play with us? We need another player." The other boys rolled their eyes; Little Bit and Stump could play the rest of them and win easily.

However, they did need another player, so they crowded around the chinaberry tree. "Come on down, Little Bit…you know you want to."

"Yea, come on Idgie, please? You can be on my team."

Little Bit looked down at the boys gathered beneath her, then glanced at where Idgie and Brianna were sitting on the swing. She looked at her brother and said "Only if we play in the front yard."

The boys readily agreed; the front yard was visible from the porch swing.

Chad Kilgore stood on his brother's shoulders and hooked an arm under Little Bit's knees and the other around her back. "Come on down, Little Bit." Chet stepped back, causing Chad and Little Bit to tumble to the ground in a heap.

The boys laughed as Chet winked at Chad; Little Bit extricated herself, glaring at the boys. "Are we gonna play, or are you all gonna stand around acting like fools?"

Stump bounced the football off the back of Chet's head and asked "Who's on whose team?

Immediately Chad, Chet, Vernon, and Bobby Lee answered "You and her are opposites."

Little Bit protested, "Aw come on, you guys…he's only got one arm, and I'm a girl." This tactic worked on most people; not on these guys. They'd had their collective butt handed to them too many times to let Stump and Little Bit play together.

"Fine. Then I want Hadley and Scroggins." She looked smug.

"Why?" said Chad and Chet at the same time.

Stump explained: "So she can tackle the crap outta you guys."

"Fine by me," smirked Chet as they all moved into position.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, the boys put Stump and Little Bit together after all. Stump pulled his sister aside before they resumed play. "Little Bit, you better start focusing on the game and not on the porch, or we're gonna get creamed. If you really wanna impress her, help me kick their butts instead of playing like crap 'cause you're distracted." They both turned to look at the swing where Brianna was now chatting with Peggy Hadley, both of whom were studiedly feigning ignorance of the game in the yard.<p>

Stump waved at Peggy, who grinned and gave him a small wave in return before pretending to ignore them again.

Little Bit looked at her brother and smiled; he knew, and that was okay, because it was Buddy. "Alright, let's play some football."

* * *

><p>Another two hours later, the disgruntled four-man team gave up on football and gang-tackled Stump and Little Bit. As the game degenerated into a giant wrestling match, the girls on the porch watched in amusement.<p>

"I don't know what Stump told her, but it sure improved her game, didn't it?" remarked Peggy.

Brianna laughed. "Well, once the two of them started paying attention to the game, they did pretty well. I wonder if it was just a trick to get the boys to put them on the same team."

"I wouldn't put it past them," Peggy giggled. "Except Little Bit was showing off more than she was actually playing through the whole game. They still kicked butt, though."

Ruth, catching the end of their conversation, paused in the doorway. She smiled to herself, remembering the enormous string of fish Idgie had carried home one day of a far-off summer, coincidentally at the same time that Ruth was coming home from teaching at the church. Julian had made the mistake of saying Idgie hadn't caught any of them, that she had simply bought them off some colored boys at the river; that remark had cost him a good pair of shoes.

Making a mental note to ask Julian if he remembered the incident, she stepped out onto the porch. "Girls, supper's about ready…will you go tell them to wash up?" She gestured towards the tangled pile of bodies in the yard.

Peggy and Brianna cheerfully stood up and walked out to where the erstwhile football players turned wrestlers had collapsed in a heap.

Seeing the girls coming, they all sat up, straightening their clothes and brushing grass off of each other, embarrassed grins on their faces.

Peggy helped Stump to his feet as Brianna told them that Ruth had said to go wash for supper.

The boys watched Peggy and Stump walking off, catcalling and whistling when they linked hands, then got to their own feet. Chad turned and offered Little Bit a hand, which she ignored. "Good game," he said. "Thanks for playing with us."

She laughed, "Well, someone has to teach you bunch of girls how to play football."

The other boys laughed and started towards the house, discussing the finer points of the game they had just played.

Little Bit started to follow when Brianna called "Idgie…wait." She turned and looked at the blonde girl.

"I hope you're not mad at me."

Little Bit was slightly nonplussed; why would she be mad at this beautiful creature whom she had just spent two and a half hours trying to impress?

Seeing her look of confusion, Brianna continued. "I didn't mean to…catch you by surprise last night." She didn't repeat the term "startle", and tactfully refrained from mentioning Little Bit's fall.

Little Bit stared for a second before realizing that she was expected to answer this remark. "Uhm, well…yea. It's…fine," was all she could manage.

Brianna grinned and linked her arm through Little Bit's. "That's a relief. You looked so mad when you walked off, I thought I'd ruined any chance of us ever being friends."

Little Bit blinked in astonishment. She knew, of course, that her parents had invited Brianna in hopes that they would become friends; but hearing from Brianna's own mouth that she _wanted_ to be her friend…well, that was a bit different.

Having Brianna's arm linked with her own effectively drove any further thought from her mind, however, and the two walked back up to the house in silence.


End file.
